


Sole Recovery

by The_Epitome_of_Pretense



Series: The Sole Saga [12]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Bedside Hand-Holding, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Robot/Human Relationships, Romantic Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, Wholesome, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 07:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Epitome_of_Pretense/pseuds/The_Epitome_of_Pretense
Summary: Nick Valentine watches over Sole as she recovers from a Deathclaw attack.





	Sole Recovery

Sole awoke to find Nate sitting on the floor by their bed. Everything looked blurry, as if she was seeing it through a haze. She could not tell if she was on the bed or floating just above it. She glanced around to find that the room looked different than she remembered—but maybe that was just her blurred vision. The sun rays coming through the window told her it was mid morning.

“What are you still doing here?” she mumbled.

Nate said nothing. Even with her eyes only half-focused, she could see the tension in his shoulders. He looked anxious, as if he had something important to say, but was afraid to say it.

“You’re going to be late for work,” she continued. “Why didn’t Codsworth wake me up? And where’s Shaun?”

He hesitated a moment. Then he said in a soft voice,

“Where do you think Shaun is?”

His voice was deeper than it used to be. And it had gotten raspier, too. The smell of smoke met her nose, and then it made sense. He had taken up smoking while she was asleep. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes.

“He should be in his crib—"

Then it hit her. Shaun was grown. Nate was dead. The room looked different because of the two centuries of looting and disuse.

She felt as though she had been slammed down upon the bed. Her vision began to sharpen, and with it came a throbbing pain across her back and an ache in her neck. It was Nick who sat beside her, she realized. He was holding her hand, running his thumb gently across her skin.

“I think Shaun is asleep,” he said. “I can find Codsworth if you want to see him.”

“No, don’t bother. I know Shaun isn’t here.”

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you might still be dreaming. How are you feeling?”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

“That probably would have been better than what actually happened.”

“What, the radiation poisoning?”

“No, the—the Deathclaw.”

“The Deathclaw?”

Memories flooded her thoughts, and she saw in her mind’s eye a vision of the Deathclaw throwing Nick to the ground. She clutched his hand.

“Oh God, are you okay?” she said.

She tried to lift herself off the bed to get a better look at him—only to be brought back down by the lines of pain that erupted across her back.

“Careful—don’t hurt yourself, now,” he said, helping to ease her back down. “But to answer your question, yeah, I’m okay.”

Sole took a moment to catch her breath.

“Are you sure? It looked like it hit you pretty hard—“ her eyes landed on his bloodstained undershirt. “Shit, are you bleeding? Wait—wait, no, you can’t bleed. What’s going on here, Nick?”

“You shot that sucker right in the eye. I’m not sure how you managed it, the way it was thrashing about. Anyway, you saved my life. So thanks for that.”

“You don’t need to thank me. But your story doesn’t explain the blood on your shirt.”

“It’s… well, it’s your blood.”

“Oh. Is that why...” she gestured to her back.

He nodded.

“The Deathclaw attacked you after you shot it. Then I carried you here. And now you’re awake.”

He squeezed her hand again. A desperate expression filled his eyes; again he looked like he had something to say, and he would burst if he didn’t say it. There was something in his expression that reminded her of their encounter in Dr. Amari’s lab.

 _Don’t flatter yourself_ , she thought. _That kind of thinking is part of the reason you’re in this situation_.

“What’s wrong? Something’s on your mind,” she said.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“You should probably take another stimpack,” he murmured.

He crossed the room and rummaged through a drawer. She closed her eyes when he returned. Even after countless injections, she couldn’t stand the sight of that giant needle. He leaned one knee on the bed, causing her to roll his way slightly. That was almost enough to distract her from the pain of the stimpack pricking her arm.

She stifled a groan. Then the unnatural chill flooded her body, stretching out to every extremity, settling at last on her wounded back. She shivered, drawing her legs up to her chest in spite of the pain.

“Ugh, cold,” she grumbled.

Nick started to stand.

“I’ll find you another blanket,” he said.

Sole grabbed his arm.

“Wait, stay. Please.”

He settled back down, then tugged the covers closer around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” she said. “You’ve probably been here with me a while already, huh?”

“That’s alright. You say some pretty funny things when you’re doped up.”

“Like what?”

“Well… for example, a couple hours ago you said that I needed to get a scarf and wrap my neck up tight with it ‘to keep my voice from falling out,’” he said with a chuckle.

Sole's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Goodness. What on earth did they give me?” she said.

“Beats me. I didn’t ask.”

“Whatever it was, it was strong.”

She cozied herself deeper into the blankets, glad to be on the bed and not floating above it. An orange shape, wedged between the bed and the nightstand, caught her eye. She reached for it, only to recoil when her wounds throbbed in protest.

“What do you need?” Nick asked.

“There’s something down there. I want to see what it is.”

He pulled out the shape. It was a holotape, faded and coated with dust.

“Huh, would you look at that,” he squinted at the label. “It says… 'My Man Godfrey.'”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Sole said. “I can’t believe it’s still here, after all this time.”

“This is yours?”

“It’s one of my favorite movies.”

“Let’s watch it, then. You awake enough?”

“I am now. Oh, you’re gonna love it.”

Nick stuck the tape into her PipBoy, which had been sitting on the nightstand, and positioned it where they could both see it. Now Nick was leaning against the bed, his shoulders within reach. She wondered how he would react if she were to pop his suspender straps. She stifled a giggle.

“Are the opening credits that funny?” He said.

“No, I was just thinking of a later scene. I won't spoil it for your, but someone gets tossed out a window.”

“I can’t wait.”

* * *

Nick was doubled over, laughing so hard that he had gone silent. Sole had managed to enjoy the movie without any extra pain so far, but seeing Nick in such a state was too much. She clutched at her side, afraid even to breathe.

“I haven’t laughed that hard since a nest of radroaches set up in Diamond City’s upper stands,” he said when he had recovered himself.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, trying to hide the pain in her voice.

He turned to her, his amused look falling to one of concern.

“Let’s finish this sometime when you’re well.”

He ejected the tape and placed it in the drawer. Sole finally caught her breath.

“Oh, Nick! You’re upsetting Carlo,” she said, mimicking one of the characters. “And if we don’t finish, you won’t find out who gets tossed out the window.”

“I can tell already it’s Carlo. If I were that father, I would have shown him the door long before then.”

“You tell ‘em, Mr. Valentine.”

They fell silent, the only sound in the room coming from a chirping bird outside. Her eyes began to droop. Nick shifted a little. Sole grew afraid that he might leave if she didn’t think of something they could do together. She wanted to grab him by the sleeve and not let go. Then she could fall asleep knowing that he was still there.

He got to his feet. A thrill of fear went through her. She struggled to think of a reason to keep him there.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

She listened to the click of his shoes fading into the distance. A minute passed, and then another. Deathclaws began to stalk the edge of her thoughts. She fought to keep them at bay, but they drew closer and closer as the seconds ticked by. She was beginning to remember more details of the previous day. She could see the monster’s bloodied eye as it turned to look at her. She clutched at the blankets.

Just as she was about to cry out, Nick stepped through the door. He had gotten his white shirt back and was buttoning it up. He held his coat draped over one arm. She smiled; it made him look almost like a butler, like Godfrey.

“You know, that Mama Murphey’s a real sweet lady. She washed these for me,” he clarified, gesturing to his shirt and coat. “I can’t understand what she’s talking about half the time, but I guess lifelong chem use will do that to you.”

His yellow eyes fell on her, and the concerned look returned.

“You poor thing, I should have brought you another blanket,” he said.

She wanted to ask him if he would lay down beside her to keep away the cold and the Deathclaws.

Instead she said, “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything important.”

 _Idiot_ , she thought to herself, _he might leave again_.

“You're not getting rid of me that easy,” he said. “The most important thing right now is keeping an eye on you until you’re well.”

He draped his coat over her, tucking it close around her neck. She shivered, but not from the cold. Her vision began to blur with weariness. She let out a sigh and allowed her eyes to close.

“Thank you, Godfrey,” she mumbled.

He let out a soft laugh.

“At your service, madam," he said.

He sat down and took her hand again. Sole fell asleep with Nick beside her, feeling safer than she ever had since coming out of the Vault.


End file.
